


same old lang syne

by blackhawkdown



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, No Bending, brief suki and jet appearances, i've watched holiday engagement too many times, mostly fire family drama and ozai is an abusive dickwad, referenced past mai/zuko breakup, that 'bring a fake fiance home for the holidays' au nobody asked for but im writing anyway
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21735886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackhawkdown/pseuds/blackhawkdown
Summary: zuko was supposed to bring his fiancée home for christmas--ozai expects him to 'settle down' and provide an heir to the company, and soon. but then his girlfriend breaks up with him, instead of accepting his proposal. what's a guy to do but ask an old flame to pose as his fiancée for the weekend? what could possibly go wrong?
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 98





	same old lang syne

**Author's Note:**

> I love the fake dating trope, and I especially love the 'bring a fake significant other home for the holidays' trope, and I double especially love the film 'Holiday Engagement', which inspired me to write this fic in the first place. It's a small multichapter fic, and hopefully I will get it finished and all the chapters up by the end of the month. This is my Christmas project, and I hope you enjoy!

“Wait, you’re saying _Mai_ broke up with _you_?”

Zuko really couldn’t blame Jet for the way his voice rose an incredulous octave, and he didn’t need to look to know his friend’s eyebrows had risen to the vicinity of his hairline. It had been the world’s worst-kept secret, after all: ever since they’d met at that fundraising gala three years ago, Mai had been trying to snag him. After a time, he’d decided to let her—it wasn’t _her_ fault that there was something inherently unappealing in dating someone of whom his father would approve, and really, it felt nice to be _wanted_ again. More than that, the relationship was easy, he had to admit—there was no secrecy, no worrying about what might happen if someone found out and it got back to his father, no need to keep her away any time his sister visited.

But it never felt _real_. And Zuko still wasn’t entirely sure why.

“Yeah, she did. I guess I fucked up.”

“But how? Weren’t you going to propose this weekend?”

“I _did_. She said no.”

A beat. Then, “ _What_?”

\---

 _If there was a distinct lack of romance in the air, it couldn’t be blamed on the atmosphere. Zuko and Mai had the restaurant to themselves—the other tables were cleared away, leaving one in the center of the room. The lighting was low and romantic, candles set against the walls, with three in the middle of the table. Rose petals had been scattered here and there—real ones, their scent leaving subtle traces of perfume in the air. It was, to all appearances, the perfect date._

_Zuko wasn’t sure why he felt so calm. Shouldn’t his palms be sweating? Or at least his heart pounding? Shouldn’t he be thinking of the future with her by his side, rather than wondering if he even wanted to be here?_

_It took a few moments, but he forced such thoughts from his head, reaching into his pocket and then slowly moving from his chair. Mai had forced him to sit through enough romantic comedies to know how this was supposed to look._

_“Zuko?” There was a note of surprise to her tone, and something else he couldn’t quite place. Surely it didn’t matter—he’d already made up his mind, and was down on one knee; there was no turning back now._

_“Mai, we’ve been going out for… a while now.” He winced—should he have remembered the exact number of days? “And I think it’s time- I mean, I think we’re ready. For the next step.” He pulled the small velvet box from his jacket pocket, opening it as he continued. “Will you marry me?”_

_The young woman was looking down at him with an expression he couldn’t figure out. She’d always been inscrutable, preferring to play her emotions close to the vest rather than wearing her heart on her sleeve, but Zuko liked to think that after two years and change he’d gotten better at_ reading _her. Except that, in this moment, he had no idea what she was thinking._

 _He just asked her to marry him. Shouldn’t she be smiling?_

_Shouldn’t_ he _?_

 _“Amazing,” she said, after an incredibly pregnant pause. There wasn’t the slightest hint of awe or wonder in her voice. “Really, Zuko, I’m impressed,” she continued, deadpan. “You may go down in history as the man with the_ least _romantic proposal. Ever.”_

 _“What?”_

_Mai scoffed, shaking her head. “Oh, get up. We both know you didn’t mean it.”_

_“Yes I did! I do!” Zuko said, suddenly angry, though he wasn’t sure why. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t-”_

_“Most people say ‘I love you’ when they_ mean _it_ _,” Mai cut in, one eyebrow raised. “You’ve never said that to me. Not even once.”_

 _Zuko visibly deflated—as quickly as it had come, the anger vanished. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet, slipping back into his chair. “I’m sorry, Mai. I just-”_

_“Just_ what _?” she asked, leaning back and crossing her arms._

 _“It’s complicated.”_

_Mai rolled her eyes. “No it_ isn’t _, Zuko. In fact, it’s incredibly simple. Either you love me, or you don’t.” The silence stretched between them, and Mai’s expression softened. When she spoke again, her voice was almost_ small _, a thickness to it as if she were speaking past a lump in her throat. “Do you love me?”_

 _Zuko couldn’t speak._ Yes, I do, of course I do _… was what he_ should _have said. But his mouth wouldn’t open, his tongue couldn’t form the words. He was past the point of being able to lie to himself, let alone her._

_If there were tears in her eyes, Mai quickly blinked them away, swallowing hard before speaking again. “You don’t. I know… I think I already knew, I just didn’t want to believe it. It’s over, Zuko.”_

_“Mai, wait-” Zuko said, rising as she did—to bring her back, convince her he meant it, ask her forgiveness? he wasn’t sure—but she spun around, pinning him with a glare that could have cut glass._

_“Don’t. Don’t try to explain things, don’t apologize… just don’t. I deserve better than you asking me to marry you because it’s what your father wants.” She turned again, heading for the exit, leaving Zuko feeling incredibly foolish and more than a little ashamed._

_At the door Mai paused, looking back over her shoulder. “And Zuko?” He looked up. “So do you.”_

_\---_

“Wow. You weren’t kidding.” Zuko turned to glare at his friend, but Jet raised his hands placatingly. “Look, I’m only saying what you’re _thinking_ , and you know it.”

Zuko sighed, running a hand through his shaggy, black hair. “I know. I just… what am I going to do _now_? My flight home leaves in the morning, and if I go back without Mai, I’m getting disowned. My father was pretty clear about that.”

“Does he even know you and Mai were dating?”

“I… may have told him she was my fiancée already.”

“You _what_?”

“Look, I had to say _something_ to get him off my back! I just…”

Zuko trailed off, and Jet laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “You never thought she’d say no.”

“And now I’m screwed.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Jet spoke again. “Why don’t you hire someone?”

Zuko choked. “ _What_?” he sputtered. “Are you _high_?”

“I don’t mean like _that_ , you idiot,” Jet replied, laughing at Zuko’s expression. “I meant, like, an actress or something. Get a girl to pretend to be Mai for the weekend—you said your father never met her, right?”

“Yeah. Azula knows her, but she’s staying in Paris this year.”

“That’s perfect! Just hire a girl for an acting job—it’ll at _least_ get you off the hook for now, and you’ll have more time to find someone who’ll actually marry you. No offense,” he added, flashing a disarming smile when Zuko shot another glare his way.

A moment later, though, his face relaxed into a smile, and he laughed. “You’re right. It could work—but how am I going to find someone on such short notice?”

“It’s kinda late to put an ad in the paper, but the local college has a drama department, right? You might be able to get some names of girls in town who’d be able to- Zuko? Are you listening?”

They’d come to a stop outside a small, quaint-looking store-front. _Kya’s Baked Goods_ was emblazoned across the semi-frosted windows, but Zuko’s attention was focused on something inside. Some _one_. “Katara?”

Jet blinked. “Wait. Katara? _The_ Katara? The- hold on, Zuko, this isn’t a good ide- Zuko!”

But Zuko had already pushed the door open, and the bell chimed prettily as he stepped inside. Two women were in the lobby—one was clearing up a table in the corner, and the other was behind the counter, setting out a row of pastries. A fine sheen of sweat glistened on her dark skin, and even from here Zuko could imagine those wide, bright blue eyes, crinkling at the edges with a soft smile at a job well done. Her thick, dark hair was twisted into a long braid to keep it out of the way, but a few strands had escaped to frame her face.

It took a moment for Zuko to realize he’d stopped breathing. The bell chimed again as Jet followed him in, and the woman at the table turned to get a look at the newcomers. “Hi! Welcome to Kya’s-”

“ _Zuko_?”

The woman behind the counter finally looked up, and her eyes widened when she saw him. The world seemed to tilt on its axis—Zuko felt light-headed, almost _giddy_. But the shock on Katara’s face quickly turned to something harder. Angrier.

He’d almost forgotten how beautiful she was.

“Zuko Himura. It _is_ you.” Her voice was like ice, but he could still picture the fire in those clear blue eyes. “What are _you_ _doing_ here?”

“I was just…” he trailed off, glancing at Jet, who shrugged and raised his hands, palms up as if to say ‘don’t look at me—this is your mess’. A piece of paper taped to the window caught his eye and shame coiled, sickly and cloying, in the pit of his stomach. “I saw the eviction notice. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“What, that your company bought out the whole damned block and raised the rent so high no one here could pay it?”

“It’s not _my_ company-”

“Yet,” Katara snapped, and Zuko, rather than fire back another retort, simply sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and staring very hard at the floor. When he heard footsteps, he looked up again—she was very close, and for one wild moment, he thought Katara was about to slap him.

+++

She thought so too, truth be told. There was an itch in her palms, and she very nearly gave in to the impulse, but her eyes settled on the eviction notice instead. Katara pushed roughly past Zuko, knocking him into his friend as she ripped the slip of paper from the frosted glass window. “Thirty days, right?” She turned back, finally meeting his golden eyes. “Don’t worry. We’ll be out by then.” She held the paper out, and when he didn’t take it, she pushed it to his chest, before turning to head back to the counter.

“What if I told you a way you could save this place?”

Katara froze.

“Suki, if you’re going to pretend to clean that table forever, at least get a clean rag,” she said drily, glancing at her friend before she turned to face Zuko. “You have five minutes. Convince me.”

\---

“Did that really just happen?”

Katara and Suki were alone in the bakery once more. The latter had brought over a plate with a couple pastries, and set two cups of tea on the table. Katara was still staring at the door.

“Come on, at least _eat_ a little something,” Suki said, grabbing her friend by the shoulders and gently steering her into a chair. “And then tell me _everything_.” Her bright, grey-blue eyes gleamed in the low ambient lighting. “Starting with _Zuko Himura_ walking in here like it was any other day.”

“You _know_ the story already.” But Katara sat down, obligingly nibbling at a cheese danish.

“I know what you’ve told me before, about the jackass who broke your heart,” Suki corrected, “but you never told me his name. Or, I’m guessing, what _really_ happened. Zuko _Himura_? As in, the Himura family? Sozin Corp? The people who own half the damn _state_?”

Katara winced. “Look, he wasn’t ‘a Himura’, when I knew him. I mean, he _was_ , but to me he was just Zuko.”

“So… what _did_ happen?” Suki asked. There wasn’t a demand in her voice so much as _concern_.

“It was a long time ago, and-”

“ _Katara_.” She met Suki’s gaze. “You weren’t looking at Zuko like he was ancient history.”

The woman sighed, staring hard at the mug of tea now warming her hands. “We dated in college. I didn’t even know he was a Himura then, not at first. I think his father sent him to BU to keep him out of the way, but he never did tell me the whole story.

“Anyway, it was… perfect. For a while. Eventually I found out who his family was, but by then it didn’t really matter, you know? I was… I was in love with him.” _Past tense. No danger of it happening again. This whole thing is just a business proposition._ Katara took a sip of tea, and when she looked back at Suki, her friend nodded encouragingly. “His sister showed up for a semester. That’s how I found out, actually—we didn’t get along. She didn’t think I was good enough to be her brother’s friend.”

“Friend? What’d she say when she found out you guys were dating?”

A pained look crossed Katara’s face. “She didn’t.”

“What? _How_?”

She shrugged. “Zuko kept saying that if his father found out, horrible things would happen. Apparently, he was supposed to marry someone from the right social circles, and he was worried that if his father knew about us, he’d do something to chase me away. So we kept it a secret. And it was fine, at first. Exciting, even. But I thought, when Zuko graduated, things would change.”

Suki nodded, eyes solemn. “But they didn’t.”

It wasn’t a question, but Katara shook her head anyway. “I thought he was ready to be his own man, you know? Step out from his father’s shadow. So what if he got disowned? He’d still have me. He could make his own way, and I thought…” She sighed. “Apparently, his father made him an offer he couldn’t refuse. Sent Azula to bring him home. And he asked me to wait for him. But I was done waiting.”

“You asked him to choose?”

Katara laughed bitterly. “I honestly thought he’d pick me. Or at least come clean about our relationship and let come what may. But he was scared. And I couldn’t wait around anymore for that to change.”

“I don’t blame you. But… now you’re going to his father’s house for Christmas? Pretending to be his fiancée?” Concern shown from Suki’s eyes.

“He promised to help me keep mom’s bakery open. I can pretend to be ‘Mai’ for a weekend.” When Katara looked up, Suki had leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised. “ _What_?” Silence. “Suki, I’m telling you, this is just _business_. I’m over him. I’ve been over him for _years_.”

“Really? Then why haven’t you dated anyone since college?”

“ _Suki_.”

“What? I’m just worried about you.”

“I’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing.” A beat. “I swear!”

With an exasperated sigh, Suki shook her head—but at last, she relented, grabbing a danish for herself. “Ok, fine. But you’ve gotta give me _something_ , at least.”

Now it was Katara’s turn to lift an incredulous brow. “Like what?”

“Like…” Suki trailed off, momentarily lost in thought. When her eyes refocused, there was a hint of concern. “Like… I’m not sure how to ask without sounding callous, but… what’s up with his scar? Can he even see out of that eye?”

Katara winced—she probably should have seen the question coming, but even though it’d been years, she’d long since gotten past the point of focusing on his scar, or really taking note of it as something odd or otherwise out of the ordinary. “Honestly, he… never really got into it.”

“You never asked?”

“I didn’t say _that_ —although, now that I think about it, it was Sokka who asked the first time. And he wasn’t exactly tactful about it.”

Suki shook her head with a wry laugh. “That sounds like him.”

“Anyway, all Zuko ever said about it was that he’d had an accident when he was a kid. And it seemed like a really painful memory, so I never pushed. It didn’t matter to me, anyway.” She shrugged. “He was still the best looking guy on campus.”

Their gazes locked, and Katara noticed the way Suki’s lips twitched. “What?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Oh, nothing!” Suki said, in a tone much too bright and cheerful to be wholly innocent. “Just, the way you look when you’re talking about him—I can tell how _over_ Zuko Himura you _really_ are.”

“Just because I’m _over him_ doesn’t mean he got any less attractive, Suki!”

“Methinks the lady doth protest- ah!” Suki ducked quickly to avoid the danish aimed at her head. “Too much!”

“Look, you’ve made me waste a perfectly good pastry!” Katara pulled a stern face for a moment, though she couldn’t hold it long before dissolving into giggles. “Oh, come on, help me get the rest of this cleaned up. Whether you’re wrong or not, if it’ll save mom’s bakery, I have to _try_.”

“I know you do.” Suki trashed the Danish projectile and grabbed the mop again, looking back at Katara as she finished with the floor. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“How ‘bout this—if I’m dumb enough to get my heart broken again, I’ll let you beat him up for me.”

Suki flashed a wicked grin. “Deal.”


End file.
